


Solace in the Storm

by flipflop_diva



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Awesome Sam Wilson, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Scene, Multi, Natasha Feels, Natasha Needs a Hug, Protective Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Sam-Centric, Steve Has Issues, Steve Rogers Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-07 13:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is the super soldier who always does the right thing. Natasha is the masterful assassin who thinks she doesn't need anyone. But Sam Wilson is the one who is the real hero. After all, he's the one who keeps them all together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [APgeeksout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/APgeeksout/gifts).



> First of all, thank you so much for so many awesome prompts! I was so inspired by so many of them! The main inspiration for this came from _Other times Sam's offered Natasha a safe place in trying times_ , except I got a little carried away and it turned into this. I'm not sure what else to say about that, except I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it.
> 
> Also, as a warning, this is set from the period during Cap2 all the way through Age of Ultron, so there are some spoilers for the movie.

It wasn’t like Sam Wilson had ever gone to bed at night when he was a little boy and dreamed of being a superhero. Superheroes weren’t real; they were legends and myths, movie characters and comic book heroes. And even if he had known back then that they were real, being one was never something he had aspired to. It wasn’t who he was. 

Sure, he helped people. He opened doors for strangers and asked the elderly woman across the street if he could carry in her groceries. And he sat next to his friends on the playground and listened to their complaints and offered advice. 

But none of that meant anything special. That was just what he did. That’s who he was. A regular kid who grew into a regular man who helped people because it was the right thing to do and because sometimes everyone needed a little help.

Even if those someones were a super soldier and a master assassin who liked to pretend that they could handle everything on their own. 

Which sometimes made it incredibly difficult to help them. But it wasn’t like Sam hadn’t known what he was getting into. After all, it had been a struggle since the very first day — the day that Sam always referred to as the one that changed his life. 

On that day, Sam had woken up as he’d done almost every morning since he’d moved back to DC. He’d gone for his run as he’d done almost every morning since he’d moved back to DC. Then he’d stood in his kitchen, cooling down, gulping down orange juice right from the container and trying not to hear his mother’s voice in his head scolding him for not using a gosh darn glass. 

And then the knock came, and the last two people on earth he’d ever expected to find were standing at his door. But even before a single word had been spoken, the future was already written. After all, there was never going to be any way that Sam was going to say no to anything Captain America asked of him. 

Nor was he going to say no to the very cute redhead, whose name at that point was still a mystery, who was standing beside Captain America.

“Natasha,” she’d said once they were inside, and she stuck out a hand toward him. Her grip was strong, even though she looked a little like she was going to topple over, but Sam always said later that it wouldn’t have mattered even if she had, because by that point, Sam was pretty sure he was already in love with her.

“Sorry about this,” Captain America — Steve — had said again as Sam and Natasha finished their introductions (and Sam always said he was pretty sure he was in love with him by then too). “We don’t mean to drag you into our mess.”

“Hey, man, stop apologizing.” Sam had grinned at them both. “I wouldn’t have answered the door if I didn’t want to help.” He looked them over, both of them grimy and dirt-covered. “You guys want to shower?”

Steve jerked his chin to the right, indicating Natasha. “She got hit pretty hard,” he said. “I’d like to make sure she doesn’t have a concussion.”

“I’m fine,” Natasha said. She’d sounded like she was gritting her teeth.

Steve looked at Sam. “She’d say that even if she was missing an arm, so I’m not really going to take her word for it. I’d still like to check.”

“I’ll grab some first-aid kit stuff,” Sam said. “I have a lot of supplies lying around. I get a lot of superheroes just dropping by, you know. You guys aren’t my first.”

“I wouldn’t have presumed so,” Steve said, and he grinned.

And that was how it started. With towels and a shower (and a hair straightener Sam had never returned to his sister that he dug out from the back of his closet) and two plates full of eggs.

But it was far from how it would go.

•••

The search for Bucky was painful. It was also long and arduous and full of more dead ends than Sam could ever have imagined. But the one good thing it did have was time — time that solidified the bond between Sam and Steve probably more than anything else ever could have.

Sam was the one Steve came to lean on, came to trust. Sam was the one who was there with a beer at the end of a hard day (he knew Steve couldn’t get drunk but it was the bonding and the symbolism that mattered). Sam was the one Steve stayed with and spent time with until it got to a point that Sam couldn’t remember them ever not being together.

It was the first time since Riley that Sam truly felt comfortable being himself around someone else, and it was the first time since Bucky that Steve felt the same. Which was what Steve told Sam the first night they fell asleep tucked together after a draining search that ended not with smiles and happily ever afters but with bruises and scrapes and a feeling of hopeless despair settling in their stomachs.

They didn’t talk about Natasha much, not after she disappeared to go do whatever it was she needed to do. Sam didn’t ask Steve what was between the two of them — if anything had been — but Sam had seen the way Steve looked at her when he thought she wasn’t looking and Sam had seen the way she sat by Steve’s side in the hospital, clinging to his hand when she thought she was alone. He had also seen a sort of sadness in her eyes when she had kissed Steve goodbye with that peck on the cheek and handed him the folder on Bucky. Sam had wanted to yell at them both then, to tell Steve to just man up and ask her to stay because he clearly wanted her to, and to tell Natasha that even though he didn’t really know her (did anyone really know Natasha though?) that it was stupid to keep being so stubborn when she clearly wanted Steve to ask her to stay.

But Sam said nothing because what was between them was between them and he had no business getting involved. But that didn’t stop him from wondering about Natasha in the weeks and months that followed, and being half relieved that she had left (because he might not have found with Steve what he found with Steve if she had stayed) and being half sad that not only hadn’t she actually come back but she hadn’t even called or otherwise sent them a message.

But the one night he mentioned that the whole thing seemed odd, Steve had just shaken his head. 

“That’s Natasha,” he had said, as if those two words explained everything and everyone should just be okay with that, and that was the last they talked about it.

Until two weeks later.

•••

Altogether, it was thirteen weeks after they had said goodbye to Natasha in the cemetery. It was two days since their last very much failed attempt to rescue Bucky. It was four hours since they had gone to bed together, falling asleep somewhere between sloppy kisses and gentle touches.

Sam didn’t realize what had woken him up at first, but he and Steve sprung out of bed at the same moment. Steve held up his hand, his head cocked like he was listening for something, and then he beckoned Sam to follow him out to the living room, tossing him a gun he pulled from under the bed as they went (a gun Sam hadn’t even realized he had).

She was sitting on the couch, like she had been there all along, and Sam blinked at her in disbelief as his eyes adjusted to the dark, and then Steve turned on a light and Sam realized she looked like she’d been in a fight with ten angry men — and had lost. The whole left side of her face looked bruised and bloody. Her lip was puffy and split, and her left eye was so swollen, Sam wondered if she could even see out of it.

Lowering his eyes to skim down the rest of her, he could tell her catsuit was ripped in a few places and he could see droplets of blood all over her. Her right hand was cradled in her lap in such a way that Sam had a feeling it was at least sprained.

She smiled at them as they stared at her, although it looked a bit more like a grimace. “Hey,” she said, in the exact same tone she had used when Sam had first met her all those weeks before, when she was picking Steve up for the mission on the Lemurion Star, back before any of this had started and before Sam had even known who she was.

Steve moved first, dropping to his knees in front of her, hands going instantly to her wrist. Sam watched her visibly wince as Steve prodded it.

“I thought it was in your contract that you don’t lose fights,” Sam said, trying to break the tension. He moved over next to Steve, who was still poking at Natasha but not saying anything.

Something that might have been trying to be a laugh escaped her mouth. “In case you haven’t heard,” she said, “I’m unemployed now.”

“And the bad guys don’t obey the rules?” Sam asked.

“No,” she said, and the right side of her mouth quirked up just a little before she winced again. Sam dropped his eyes to see Steve now examining an obvious wound in her abdomen.

“Jesus, Nat,” Steve whispered, finally breaking his silence. He looked up at her, and Sam saw the anger mixed with worry float across his face. “We don’t hear from you in _months_ , and then you just show up out of the blue, looking like this?” He gestured at her face.

She shrugged. “Seemed like a good time as any.”

“What if it’s not a good time for us?” Steve’s voice had an edge to it. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but Natasha’s eyes narrowed just slightly.

“Then I’ll leave,” she said coolly, like she wasn’t bleeding all over the furniture.

Sam looked between her and Steve, watched their silent battle for domination, each one trying to be more stubborn than the other.

“Okay,” he finally said. He dropped a hand to Steve’s shoulder. Steve jerked slightly at his touch. “That’s enough. Both of you. You two can argue later — after we make sure she’s not dying.”

“I’m not dying,” Natasha said evenly. She was still watching Steve.

“Yeah?” Sam said. “Well, we’ll be the judge of that.”

•••

Natasha was right. She wasn’t dying. But there was definitely something wrong. Despite the way she kept gazing at them as if to dare them to challenge her, she seemed off. More vulnerable than normal. Less sure of herself. 

She let Steve and Sam lead her to the bathroom, where they helped her undress and then cleaned and bandaged her injuries as much as they could. Sam felt her wrist and determined it wasn’t broken and wrapped it up for her and told her not to punch anyone with it, which made her smile slightly. 

Steve wrapped ice in a towel and put it over her eye, and made her hold it there with her good hand while she told him he didn’t have to take care of her like she was a child and he told her he was taking care of her as a friend. 

The cuts on the rest of her body weren’t very deep, but there were a lot and some of the bruising looked painful. Sam wondered again who had hurt her, but Natasha seemed like she had no intention of talking about it, and despite the fact that they were helping her and would pretty much do anything to protect her, she did not actually owe them any sort of explanation for where she had been or what mess she’d gotten into so Sam didn’t ask and neither did Steve. 

By the time they tucked her in bed, she was half asleep, but Steve made her swear she would still be there in the morning. She nodded her head and made a noise that sounded more like a whimper than any sort of agreement, but Steve just sighed softly and tucked the blankets around her a little tighter, as if that would keep her there even if she didn’t want to stay.

They waited until she was completely asleep, her breathing deep and even, and then they snuck back into Sam’s bed.

“Does that happen a lot?” Sam asked Steve after a few minutes of something sort of akin to awkward silence between them. He expected Steve to say yes. He knew Natasha had been his partner for almost two years, but Steve just shook his head.

“Actually, no,” he said. “She’s never trusted me enough before to come to me.”

“Hmmmm.” Sam mulled that over. “You think she’ll still be here in the morning?”

Steve shook his head. His eyes looked worried, but a soft laugh escaped. “With Natasha? I have no idea.”

“I hope she is,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I do too.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam really wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he pushed open the guest bedroom door at barely past dawn the next morning, but the relief that swept over him almost caused him to stumble.

Natasha looked just as they had left her a few hours earlier, curled up under the blankets with the bandages that were wrapped around her wrist and covering half her head still visible, along with the mottled array of bruises and scrapes on every other part of her body that he could see. 

Sam crept close enough just to reassure himself she was breathing, then turned to slip out of the room before she woke up and attacked him, but the soft whimper that came out of her mouth stopped him in his tracks. He turned back around to find her eyes — or at least her one good eye — fluttering open.

“Sam?” she croaked out. Instantly he was by her side, holding the straw in the glass of water he’d left by her bedside the night before to her lips and helping her drink.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked her as she finished and nodded her thanks.

“I’m fine,” she said, just like he knew she would. He remembered Steve saying that very first day in his apartment that Natasha would insist she was fine even if she was missing a limb. But Sam didn’t argue with her assessment. 

“I’m guessing you don’t want to tell us what happened?” he said instead.

She shook her head, wincing a little as the motion jarred her head. “I did something stupid. That’s all. It’s not a big deal.”

That he disagreed with. 

“It is a big deal,” he said, starting out a little cautiously, “if whoever it was comes after you to finish the job and we’re here too.”

Her eyes narrowed so fast Sam almost yelped. Even her one-eyed glare was scary, but he tried hard not flinch.

“They won’t,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” The way she said it made Sam realize that as bad as she looked, she had escaped. Apparently the same couldn’t be said for her attackers.

“Okay,” he said nodding. He took a breath before adding. “I know you have your whole one-woman show, miss independent thing going on … but Steve and I. We’re here. If you, uh, need anything. Even if it’s just breakfast.”

She watched him for a few seconds before answering. “Breakfast sounds good.”

“Then breakfast it is.”

•••

They never talked about Natasha moving in, or really, even staying with them. Sam and Steve didn’t bring it up because they knew it was the one thing that would make her run. Natasha didn’t bring it up because Natasha didn’t bring those kinds of things up. But move in she did. Sort of.

It started slowly. Her toothbrush on the sink, her shampoo in the shower, the coffee replaced with the kind she liked because she insisted Sam and Steve had horrible taste. At first, Sam thought it was because, despite what she insisted when asked, she didn’t actually want to be alone when she was recovering, but the bruises faded and her wrist healed and soon she was beating Sam on morning jogs and letting Steve train her on how to use his shield for fighting during afternoon sparring sessions and there was no trace that she had ever been anything but perfectly fine. Yet still she stayed. Morning after morning, she was there, even though every night Sam secretly worried she wouldn’t be.

It was about a month after she first showed up that she crawled into bed with them. She didn’t ask if it was okay, but Natasha never asked permission for anything she did. Sam and Steve came out of the bathroom together, freshly sated after a nice long shower together, and there she was, stretched out in the middle of the bed in just a t-shirt and underwear, grinning at them like a cat who had just succeeded in capturing its prey.

“You two make such a cute couple,” she drawled. “I do good work.”

Steve raised a brow at her. “ _You_ do good work? What did you do?”

“Prepared you for the twenty-first century.”

Steve scoffed. “Please. You tried to set me up with every female in a ten-mile radius, no matter who they were.”

“And it worked. You found Sam.”

Sam laughed as Steve turned to him. “I think she has brain damage,” Steve said. “I knew we should have taken her to the hospital.”

“Shut up, Rogers,” Natasha said. She was still grinning.

Steve leaned over the bed and poked her hard in the belly, causing her to gasp. “What are you doing in our bed anyway?”

“Joining you,” she said. “I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Steve looked like he wanted to protest, but Sam shook his head at him, just slightly. If Natasha noticed, she didn’t say anything. She just continued to grin at them as they got in bed, each of them on either side of her.

“If you’re going to sleep with us, we have rules,” Sam told her.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Everyone has to spoon.”

Natasha wrinkled her nose. “Can’t we just have sex instead?”

“You’re free to go back to your room.”

“I’ll stay.”

“Good girl,” Sam said, rolling her over on her side so he could press up against her back, holding her to him. On Natasha’s other side, Steve put his arms around both of them, tugging them closer.

“You’re hot,” Natasha grumbled five minutes later, her words muffled from her face being buried in Steve’s chest. “I’m Russian. I hate heat.”

But she didn’t try to move, and in the morning, she was still between them both, tucked protectively in their arms.

•••

It didn’t take long for them to develop a routine. Some nights, Natasha left Sam and Steve to be together on their own, but more often than not, she joined them, always sleeping in the middle between them. Sam had asked Steve one morning if he thought there was a reason, but Steve had just laughed.

“Natasha doesn’t do anything without a reason,” he said. “But you’d have to ask her what it is, and I doubt she’s going to tell.”

Sam doubted, too, so he didn’t ask — and neither did Steve — but they both held her a little tighter on the nights she was with them, and they both tried a little harder to make sure she knew they considered her a part of them.

Steve was the one who kissed her first. They were sparring one morning, Sam on the sidelines watching. It was a pretty evenly matched battled. Steve was stronger, but she was much more agile, and Sam had lost count of who was even winning. They had been at it for awhile when it happened. Natasha tried to feint, aiming a kick at Steve’s side as she did, but he was ready for her. He grabbed her ankle and pulled, knocking her down hard on her back, but she reached up at the last second and yanked hard on his shoulder, and he ended up falling on top of her. They were millimeters apart, and for Sam, watching it happen was like watching the pieces of a puzzle suddenly coming together. Steve leaned down and kissed her, and Sam saw Natasha close her eyes and meet his lips.

Until she froze, her eyes flying open. She gave a split second glance at Sam, and then she was scrambling out from under Steve and dashing into the locker room.

Sam followed her in to find her sitting on one of the benches, breathing hard. He bent down in front of her and reached out to cup the back of her head. 

“We’ve talked about it, Steve and me,” he told her quietly. “We want this. But only if you do too.”

He leaned up then and kissed her tenderly. When he pulled back, she was searching his face but her expression was neutral.

“I’m not a relationship kind of girl,” she finally said.

“Did anyone ask you to be?”

“No, but …” She frowned. Sam took her hand.

“No one’s asking you to do anything you aren’t comfortable doing. But we care about you, we’re attracted to you, we think you are to us and we thought it might be fun.”

Sam watched as her lips curved into a smile, an actual real genuine smile. He thought she had never looked more beautiful.

“I’ll think about it,” she said.

That night she waited till Sam and Steve were both half asleep before crawling into bed between them.

“Move over,” she told Steve, shoving at him with her hand.

“Natasha, what the hell?” Steve grumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes.

“I thought about it,” she said. “Now scoot over. You’re in my spot.”

“I swear to God, woman,” Steve mumbled. “You are going to be the death me.”

“Wow,” Natasha said. “And we haven’t even had sex yet.”

Sam just laughed.

•••

Their first real fight came courtesy of Tony Stark. Sam thought later he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Tony called today,” Steve announced one evening at dinner. “He wants the Avengers to regroup. There are a lot of bad things going down with Hydra, and he wants us to take them out.”

“Tony wants this?” Sam said.

“No,” Natasha said. She reached for another piece of pizza.

Steve looked at Sam. “Tony. Or Maria. I don’t know. He says the others agreed. Bruce is already there. So is Thor. Clint said okay.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asked, even though the awful feeling in his gut was already giving him the answer. But he needed to hear Steve say it out loud.

Steve sighed. “He says he has rooms for all of us. We can live there, train together, go out on missions when we need to.”

“You’re moving to New York?” Sam said instantly.

“No,” Natasha said again.

Steve turned on her. “No?” he said, his voice rising just slightly. “You’re an Avenger.”

Natasha shrugged. “It was one time. Not my whole life.”

“What is wrong with you?” Steve’s voice rose a little bit more. “This is who you are. You’re a fighter. You’ve been itching to go again since SHIELD fell. And now you suddenly don’t want to?”

“Maybe I want something different.”

“You don’t get to want something different!”

“Hey!” Sam cut in. “She can want whatever she wants.”

“She’s just being stubborn.”

“You’re just being stubborn,” Sam said.

“What does that mean?” Steve folded his arms across his chest. Sam imitated him. Natasha took another bite of her pizza and glared at Steve.

“It means this isn’t just your decision. You don’t get to decide for all of us. We’re all in this relationship!”

Steve scoffed. “Natasha isn’t. She said she didn’t want to be in a relationship.”

Natasha dropped her pizza. “I didn’t say that,” she said, and her voice was a little too cold.

“Didn’t you?” Steve said. “Pretty sure the first words out of your mouth when we talked about it was ‘I’m not a relationship kind of girl’.”

“That was two _months_ ago.”

“And it’s different now?” Steve shot at her. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms as well.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I thought so.” He turned back to Sam. “I’m leaving in the morning. _She_ …” — He gestured at Natasha without looking at her — “can come if she wants.”

“And I don’t get a say?” Sam said. He suddenly felt like he was in a bad dream. His chest tightened. Everything he knew was falling apart around him when five minutes ago they were laughing and eating pizza. Now the man he loved was looking at him like he didn’t mean anything to him, and the woman he loved was glaring at them both and looking like she was ready to bolt.

Steve shook his head. “You know we have to do this,” he said. “It’s our job.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Sam said, but even as he spoke the words, he knew they weren’t true. Steve might have pretended he was fine the past months, hanging in D.C. with Sam and later Natasha too, searching for Bucky when they could, but he was a soldier, a hero. There was always going to be someone who needed saving, and Sam loved him for that, but this …

“You know it has to be like this,” Steve said. “But it doesn’t have to change anything else.”

Sam glanced at Natasha, who was still glaring at Steve. It wouldn’t be obvious to anyone who didn’t know her, but Sam had spent enough time with her now that he did see it — she was hurt by Steve’s accusation that she didn’t care about them, and Sam had a feeling that it might just be too late to go back.

“I think it already has,” Sam said.


	3. Chapter 3

They left before dawn the next morning. Steve was the only one who slept that night, alone, in their bed. Sam and Natasha sat on the couch, staring at old movies neither of them really watched. 

Somewhere well after midnight, Natasha whispered into the silence. “I’m not like the rest of them.”

Sam wrestled with the urge to put his arm around her, to pull her close. Instead he just shifted his hand slightly so his fingers were brushing hers. “They wouldn’t want you if they thought you didn’t belong.”

“They’re superheroes.”

“So are you.”

She laughed softly. “I’m not. But it’s nice that someone thinks so.”

He wanted to tell her all the reasons that she was. He wanted to tell her all the ways she was just as worthy as any one of those other guys, but he knew she wouldn’t believe him. There were still a lot of secrets Natasha kept, secrets that haunted her and made her believe in things that weren’t always true, and Sam knew it wasn’t his place to ask her about them, so instead he just slid his fingers more over hers and let her know he was there.

A few hours later, Steve got up, and soon after, they were gone. Steve and Natasha hadn’t said a word to each other since the fight the night before at dinner, but Steve hugged Sam goodbye and promised they’d be okay and Natasha let Sam hold her for a few seconds longer than normal, and then that was it.

Sam was alone, and the two best things that had happened to him in years were on their way to New York.

•••

Any flicker of hope that Sam had as he watched Steve and Natasha drive away that things would be better in a few days was replaced not long after with despair. Steve called him, but their conversation was always stilted, always awkward. Natasha sent texts, but she never called him back when Sam left her messages.

Visiting them in person was even worse. Steve was always too focused on team training, and Natasha barely acknowledged him at all. Sam had the feeling if he could just sit them down and talk to them, they could figure this out. He knew in his heart that what they’d had was real. But Steve thought he needed to be a leader first and Natasha thought she wasn’t allowed to feel, and together that wasn’t a combination that led to a good outcome for anyone.

It all came to a head at Tony’s so-called celebration party. Some people seemed to be celebrating, but it wasn’t any of the three of them. Sam had barely seen Natasha all night. She was carefully keeping her distance. Steve was easier to corner.

“Are we ever going to talk about this?” Sam said, coming up to stand beside Steve, a fresh beer in his hand. Steve was standing by the stairs, pointedly staring at the bar where Natasha was openly flirting with Bruce. If she knew they were watching her — well, of course she knew they were watching her. It was Natasha, after all — she didn’t show it.

“Talk about what?” Steve said. “She obviously made her choice.”

“Not that,” Sam said, though that wasn’t entirely true. They did need to talk about what Natasha was doing with Bruce, or pretending to do with Bruce. Sam wasn’t sure which it really was, but he had a feeling it was her way of dealing with the pain. But for now, he could only solve one problem at a time, and that problem was Steve.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” Steve was saying.

Sam raised a brow. “Really? You don’t?”

Steve finally let his eyes drift away from Natasha and focus on Sam. He looked almost apologetic. “I have to lead them,” he said. “I can’t abandon them. The world is a dangerous place. I have to …”

Sam cut in. “I’m not asking you to stop doing what makes you you,” he said. “I’m just asking you to make time for me. For her.”

“She doesn’t want us to make time for her.”

“You don’t even call her Natasha anymore. You just call her Romanoff. Or _her_.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You don’t think she notices? Or that it doesn’t bother her? And don’t say it doesn’t, because you know her. Emotions aren’t really her thing. You need to be careful …”

“She’s not a little girl,” Steve cut in. “She can handle it.”

Sam felt his frustration growing. “I didn’t say she was. Or that she couldn’t. I’m saying you might need to make the first move if we want to get past this.”

“And I’m saying she already made a move.” Steve’s face hardened, and he jabbed his finger in Natasha’s direction. Sam tried not to notice how far over the bar she was now leaning in her flirting. “And I thought we weren’t talking about her.”

“Okay, fine. Then let’s talk about us again.”

“Us?”

“Is there not an us?” Sam waited, heart in his throat. Steve fidgeted, but he didn’t answer. Sam felt his stomach drop.

“Really?” Sam could barely get the words out. “This is what you really want?”

“I have to put the team first.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t-“ 

But Steve was already shaking his head. “Maybe it does,” he said. Sam just stared at him for a second, trying to understand what was happening. Maybe he should have seen it coming, since the call with Tony. Maybe he should have seen it coming long before that. They were never from the same world, but his heart still clenched painfully.

But there was no arguing with Steve when he was set on something, and there was no use trying to talk to Natasha now, so Sam did all he could. He nodded, said “Sure,” and then turned around and walked away, not sure he would ever come back.

•••

Walking into his apartment, sans Steve and Natasha in his life, felt worse than the day he had come home without Riley. Everything seemed too empty. Every item — from the couch to the bed to Steve’s paintbrushes in a box it the corner — felt like a dagger, piercing him with his memories.

He refused to believe it was over, that this was really it, but he couldn’t do anything now. Maybe when they were done fighting, if they were ever done fighting. Maybe if he could find Bucky …

He saw it on the news two days later, the destruction caused by the Hulk. Then Maria Hill sent him a text, telling him about Ultron. 

“They’re okay,” it said at the bottom, and he was so relieved he didn’t even wonder how she knew. He just let out a sigh and tried not to worry. Steve and Natasha were strong and smart and competent, and they were so much more powerful than any villain. At least that is what Sam told himself over and over and over.

It was Steve who called him next, and in the few seconds before he answered the call, Sam felt his heart leap in joy, but then he said hello and Steve spoke, his voice almost eerie calm — “Ultron took Nat” — like it wasn’t any big deal.

Sam almost dropped the phone. “What? How? Is she …?” He couldn’t even say it.

On the other end of the phone, Steve continued in his monotone. “Tony thinks Ultron would be gloating if she were dead, so he thinks she’s not.”

Sam swore he felt his heart stop. “You have to get her back,” was all he could get out. 

The next thing he knew, he was in the car and on the way to New York. He hadn’t bothered to grab anything but his keys. In the back of his mind, he knew it was stupid. There was nothing he could do — he wasn’t an Avenger — but he’d be damned if he was going to sit around his apartment watching the History Channel when Natasha could be …

Well, he wasn’t going to sit around his apartment watching the History Channel when she was missing.

Clint let him in, his face reflecting how exhausted he was. “Nat’s smart,” Clint said. “She’ll contact us if she can find a way.”

“And if she can’t?”

Clint patted him on the shoulder. “She will. Have faith.”

Sam found Steve down in the gym, half-heartedly punching a boxing bag. Sam stood in the corner, crossing his arms and waiting for the other man to notice him.

When he finally did notice, Steve just sighed and rubbed his face with his hand. “What are you doing here?” he asked. He sounded as exhausted as Clint had looked.

“What did you want me to do?” Sam said. “The woman we both care about has been kidnapped by a crazy robot, and the man I once thought was my boyfriend is acting like it’s not a big deal.”

“She’s not dead.”

“You don’t know that.”

“She’s fine. She’s strong.”

“She’s _human_.”

“Okay, fine, she’s human. What do you want from me, Wilson?”

“Oh, it’s Wilson now?”

Steve shook his head. “I can’t deal with this now. If you haven’t noticed, a psychotic robot is intent on ending the world, so we need to stop him.”

“A psychotic robot who has Natasha.”

“I told you I can’t deal with you both now.”

Sam felt his mouth drop open, just a little. This man in front of him, this wasn’t Steve, not the Steve he knew anyway. 

“Look, man,” he said. “I know you’re going through a lot …”

“Not now,” Steve said. For a second, something flickered in his eyes.

“Steve.”

“Not now,” he repeated. “I need to save the world.”

“The Avengers need to save the world,” Sam said carefully. “It’s not all on you.”

“I’m the leader.”

“It’s a group effort.”

“Maybe,” Steve admitted. He turned around and aimed another punch at the bag. He looked so worn down, so exhausted.

“Something happened,” Sam said suddenly. “Tell me what happened.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I think it’s something.” Sam took a few steps closer. “We’re still friends, Steve, even if nothing else. You can talk to me.”

Steve hit the bag another time, this one harder, sending it flying up into the air. He stopped it against his hands when it swung back the other direction. He didn’t look at Sam as he spoke.

“There are these … twins. Super-powered twins. The boy, he’s fast. Like speed of light fast. But the girl, she can get into people’s minds, show you things, mess with your head.”

“She showed you something?” Sam said.

Steve nodded. 

“Something that makes you think leading is the only important thing in your life?” Sam guessed.

Steve almost smiled. “She just reminded me of the things I can’t have anymore, things that are gone forever.”

“Did she remind you of the things aren’t gone forever?”

Steve shook his head. “I think those things are gone too.”

“That’s bull,” Sam said, “and you know it.”

“Yeah?” Steve said. He looked at Sam, and his face hardened just a little. “Well, Romanoff saw something too. And guess who she told all about it.”

Sam didn’t need to guess, and he didn’t need to guess what Steve had seen either. It was obvious it was either Bucky or Peggy. He shifted his weight and tried to gauge what to say next, but it was too late.

The door opened and Thor walked in. “We know where Ultron is,” he said to Steve.

“Great,” Steve said. “Time to go.”

Sam caught his arm as he walked by. “Find her,” he said to Steve, and then the man he loved was gone and Sam’s fingers still burned from the memory of his touch.

•••

It was quiet in the tower after they all left. Too quiet, too eerie. But Sam couldn’t make himself leave. Instead he waited, staring at his phone.

Steve didn’t call, though, and Sam didn’t call him. It wasn’t the time. Instead he sat in the living room of Avengers Tower where he imagined the whole group gathering on most nights and watched the news on an overly huge television that spanned an entire wall. His eyes searched the chaos and destruction that played across the screen for hours until finally he saw her — a ferocious little redhead who he thought looked much too small and much too human next to superheroes and super soldiers, even though the rational part of his mind knew she was just as capable — maybe more so — than any of them. 

But the irrational part of his brain didn’t care. Even if Steve hadn’t seemed to care, Sam had, and even seeing her alive and well on TV couldn’t stop the horrible pictures in his mind of her hurt or dead at the hands of an evil robot. He would have given anything at that moment to just hold her, and protect her, and not ever let her leave his sight.

But Natasha didn’t need saving, and Steve didn’t want him interfering, and neither one of them seemed intent on talking to him, so Sam turned off the television and headed back to D.C, at least content with the knowledge that they were both still okay.

•••

The next time he heard from either of them was five days after Ultron fell. Sam didn’t waste a second before hitting accept when Steve’s name flashed across the screen. For a moment, all he could hear on the other end was silence, but he swore he could hear the note of worry in the other man’s voice even before he spoke a word.

“Natasha’s not okay,” Steve finally said, cutting directly to the point. “But she won’t talk to me. I tried.”

“So you’re calling me?”

“She’s been staring at a wall for three hours.”

Sam rubbed a hand over his face and tried to ignore the ache in his chest. Maybe he shouldn’t have left New York. Shouldn’t he have _known_ she wasn’t okay? “You think she’ll talk to me?”

“I don’t know.” Steve paused, then, “I’m sorry. I acted like an ass. I’ve _been_ acting like an ass.”

“Yes, you have.”

“I’ve just been so angry — with both of you, with the situation. I thought if I just pretended none of it mattered …”

“She could have died.” Sam couldn’t help the note of anger that crept into his voice.

“I know.”

“We could have _lost_ her.”

“I know.”

“She deserves better. Frankly, so do I.”

“I know.” Steve sounded defeated. It was the one thing that could make Sam’s anger die as fast as it had come. All other shouts and accusations vanished.

“I love you,” Sam said instead. “Both of you. Even when you’re being stubborn and stupid.”

It was the first time he’d said the words out loud, the first time he’d put them out there into the world. It wasn’t quite how he’d ever pictured it going, but it felt right. His fingers tightened around the phone as he waited for Steve to respond.

“I love you too.” Steve’s voice was quiet, but Sam knew without a doubt that he meant it. “And I love her. We have to help her. I won’t forgive myself if we lose her.”

Sam clenched his fist, even though no one was there to see. “We won’t lose her.”

•••

He found Natasha in the training room of Avengers Tower, sitting on the floor mat, staring at a wall just like Steve said she was. He sat down next to her, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands, and waited for her to acknowledge him.

“If you’re here to act as my therapist, you’re wasting your breath.”

“I thought I was here to be your friend.”

“Still wasting your breath.”

“Maybe,” Sam said. She frowned. He lifted his arms and tucked them behind his head and then lay down on them. 

“Tony disabled the voice control on the doors until I give the say so and overrided all your overrides, or something, so you don’t have to say anything, but neither of us are going anywhere till you do.” He closed his eyes, though he could still feel the fury of her glare.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He opened his eyes and met hers. “I just want to know if you’re okay. I’m not asking you to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“What if I don’t want to tell you anything?”

“That’s not an option.”

“That seems to contradict your first point.”

“Maybe.” Sam closed his eyes again. “But you’re in a training gym and you’re staring at the walls. It doesn’t take a trained Russian assassin to know you’re not okay.”

He heard her sigh, loudly and exaggerated. He smiled. “When you’re ready, Nat. I’m going to catch up on sleep until then.”

•••

He had wondered how long she would test him. This was Natasha. Her patience was probably unlimited. She was also probably far more capable of going without food and water than he was. She could probably also kill him and make an escape if she really wanted. Though Sam didn’t actually think she would do that. Hopefully not anyway.

But she surprised him. He was on the verge of actually falling asleep, maybe just two hours into his campout, when he felt her lie down beside him and scoot closer so her arm was touching his. He opened his eyes and turned his head. She stared back at him, her green eyes wide. He thought she looked almost sad, and a little lost.

“I thought he was going to kill me,” she said softly.

“Ultron?”

She nodded. “There have been so many times in my life that I thought it was the end, and I didn’t care. I thought it might even be better. But this time …. This time all I could think about was that I was going to die before I could even fix the mess I made.”

“You didn’t make a mess.”

“Yes, I did.” She drew in a mouthful of air, then let it out slowly. “I got scared. And I messed it all up. … I hurt Steve. I hurt you. I made Bruce run away.”

“Natasha …”

“I was selfish.”

“You just said you were scared. Of what?”

She shrugged. He found her hand with his and squeezed it. “Tell me.”

He wasn’t sure she would. She just stared at him for a really long time. He could hear his heart beating, and he almost thought he could hear hers too.

“I’ve done a lot of horrible things,” she finally said. “I’m not who you and Steve think I am.”

“Yes, you are,” Sam said. “We know who you are.”

She shook her head. “The things I’ve done … my past …”

“Is in the past.”

She shook her head harder. “I’m a killer who kills innocent people.”

Sam squeezed her hand tighter. “You _were_ a killer who killed innocent people. Now you save them.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

“I still killed them.”

“You were a child.” Sam didn’t know too many details about Natasha’s past, but he knew enough from what Steve had told him and the sometimes small comments Natasha purposely let slip. “You didn’t know you had a choice. And once you did, you chose to be better.”

“It doesn’t erase the past.”

“Natasha.” Sam rolled over on his side, lifting himself onto an elbow so he could touch her face with his other hand. “Your past doesn’t define you. Just as Steve’s doesn’t define him. Nor does mine define me. We are who we are now, who we choose to be. And Steve and I, we choose to be with you. Because we love you, for who you are now and for who you once were. Good and bad. Because who you once were made you into the amazing person you are now.”

Natasha was quiet. He saw her search his face, like she was trying to figure out if he were really telling the truth. Then she closed her eyes. When she finally opened them, they were shimmery.

Sam felt his heart clench. He’d never seen Natasha cry before.

He didn’t think about it, though. He just drew her into his arms, held her against him. She didn’t make a single sound, but her breath hitched and he felt a small patch of wetness against his shoulder. He tightened his grip around her, stroked her hair and waited for her to be ready.

•••

It was Steve who joined them in bed this time. Sam and Natasha were in her bed in her apartment in Avengers Tower, Sam’s arms wrapped around her, pressing her back against his chest, when Steve appeared, standing in the doorway looking sheepish, hands in the pockets of his pajamas.

Sam felt Natasha frown more than he could see her do it. “How did you get in here? I have a security system!”

“Tony overrode it for me.”

“I am going to kill him!”

“It’s my fault.” Steve stepped closer to them. “I forced him to at gunpoint.”

Sam laughed. Natasha groaned. “You did not.”

“Okay, maybe I didn’t. But I did use some extremely harsh words.” Steve moved a little closer. “I was an idiot,” he said, and they all knew he wasn’t talking about his harsh words to Tony.

“We all were,” Natasha said. 

“I wasn’t,” Sam said, and the other two laughed.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered.

Natasha held out her hand. “Me too.”

Sam held out his hand as well. “Get in bed, Steve. We’re tired. We can fix the rest of it in the morning.”

“I’m going to hold you both to the promise,” Steve said, but he did as instructed, slipping in on Natasha’s other side, pulling both her and Sam into his huge warm arms.

“Oh, there is no way you guys are getting out of it,” Sam said. “Plus I hear there might be an open slot in the Avengers?”

Steve laughed. “We can talk about that later too.”

“I love you guys.” Sam said softly.

“I love you both too,” Steve added. “And I really am sorry.”

Between them, Natasha made a noise of assent. Sam tightened his arms around her, and he felt Steve do the same. He knew words didn’t come quite as easily to Natasha as they did to him and Steve, but it was okay. She was here, Steve was here, they were all together.

Sam smiled to himself as the two people he loved most in the world fell asleep beside him. They had been through so much, and it made Sam ache when either of them were hurting. He had thought once that there was no way he could have a power that compared to Captain America and Black Widow, but he had been wrong. Because being there for them, doing everything in his power to make things better? That was something he could always do.

That was _his_ superhero power.


End file.
